


She walks in beauty

by sian22



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Sea-longing, Siren song, desire or a dream?, elladan is bewitched, elrohir is frantic, is it love?, love or obssession?, or a creature's spell?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-05-18 08:51:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5918071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sian22/pseuds/sian22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elrond's eldest has always been the careful twin: composed, responsible, guiding his fierce and passionate little brother and asking little for himself. One day, by the barest twist of fate, he stumbles into a dream, a challenge he does not understand. Love or obsession? How can he know what drives his heart? A birthday present for Lady Lindariel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lady Lindariel](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Lady+Lindariel).



> Happy Birthday Lin! Elladan and a mysterious, dark-haired ellith.... and a beach...and ....
> 
> Title from the poem by Lord Byron
> 
> She walks in beauty, like the night  
> Of cloudless climes and starry skies;  
> And all that’s best of dark and bright  
> Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

_Don't wait_

_any longer._

_Dive in the_

_ocean,_

_Leave_

_And let the sea_

_Be you._

_Rumi_

"Sail? In this? "Tis not too strong a gale?"

The tall black-haired ellon stared incredulously at the knot of men and elves waiting impatiently beside the pier. A small sloop stood ready at anchor, creaking in the salt-tanged, rising wind that whipped hair and waves alike.

Out on Belfala bay swelling waves were capped by foamy white. _Valar_ , just the sight of the boat's steady rocking made Elladan's stomach give a lurch.

"A fine day for flying before the breeze." Erchirion smiled and clapped a hand upon the tall elf's shoulder. "You will be fine, my friend . And besides it is tradition. The groom and his friends always go for a less-than-sober sail before the wedding."

Less than sober indeed seemed to be the goal from the look of the provisions already on the deck. Eomer and Lothiriel's wedding was but four days away and it seemed as if enough casks and bottles were loaded to last until the ceremony. In theory this was not a long journey. Just down the coast and back again. But though they would return in time for supper the idea still gave him pause. Supper was still nigh ten hours on and the thought of an entire day on a boat did not sit well.

_Nor likely would his breakfast_ , he thought ruefully, watching as the mate rolled expertly with the swiftly shifting planks.

"Perhaps I will sit this party out." To Elladan's wary eye the boat did not look large enough for the size of their loud and boisterous party. Nor particularly stable.

The captain and his mate gathered at the gangplank, bowing and ushering the group on board. "Time is wastin' your Highnesses, my Lords."

Eomer and Faramir, Lothiriel's brothers and Aragorn all turned in unison, arms-crossed, waiting for him to make up his mind.

Amrothos, Lothiriel's youngest brother, appeared beside and tugged insistently at his arm. "Come my friend. You will feel fine if you keep your face toward the wind. If you feel unwell just go below."

The ellon's face blanched a little more. That was the last thing Elladan wished to do. By dint of hard experience he knew it did no good.

"You go ahead. I will be fine."

"Really?" Now Elrohir frowned uncertainly and bit his lip: clearly he did not relish being separated. "Perhaps I should stay behind. I would not want you to be alone."

Elladan sighed quietly. It had ever been his job to keep his brother out of trouble, but surely with Estel and Faramir on board someone would make sure he mostly kept his head? Bless Elrohir for his heart but he would not have _him_ miss out in his account. "I will not be toren. I will go for a ride and then perhaps tour the House of Healing with Princess Ivriniel as she has promised. I will see you at eventide."

"Well then…" His little brother still looked uncertain but Elladan smiled broadly, gave Elrohir's shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"Enjoy yourself," he said and watched with relief as the younger ellon turned and bounded up the plank to take his place upon deck.

As the boat cast off Elladan endured the good natured ribbing and shouts of goodbye but happily stood his ground. He and his brother may be twins, considered by most folk difficult to tell apart in form, but not so in their constitutions or their personalities. Elrohir loved the sea and sailing while his own stomach roiled at even the thought of stepping on a deck. Privately, Elladan thought his brother to be the handsomer of them both, an opinion shared by most ellith from the way they coquettishly tilted heads and gazed at the knight from under lowered lashes. Elrohir was a singer and a soldier; strong and handsome, fearless and fair, with their mother's free and elegant gaiety. Elladan knew he was more like to their father: careful and controlled, diplomatic by nature, given more to lore and introspection yet fiercely loyal with friends and fiercely efficient with their foes. And he did not share his heart so easily. That his twin took the attention in any room suited him quite well. It allowed him to watch more thoughtfully from the side.

Raising his hand to shield his clear grey eyes from the glint of sun upon the waves, Elladan stood and waved goodbye until the breeze that swept the scudding cloud took the sloop quickly away from shore. He felt no pang to be left behind. It was a rare thing in the past busy years to have time to oneself and the thought of a fast gallop along the bay's long stretch of beach was welcoming.

At the palace stables he gave a quick word thanks to the boy who had fed and watered his loyal mount before leading a frisky Gaeron out of his stall and into the bright sunshine of the day.

"Ready to run? " he asked, laughing when the big chestnut stallion threw up his head. No tack jangled at the move for he rode as the Eldar did: bareback. His old friend would take him where he asked, willing and with heart. Indeed from the jounce in Gaeron's step it seemed he was as excited as his master to be away.

The two rode south and east along the cliff top path. The waters of Dol Amroth's sheltered bay lay upon their left and the sun rose above the low worn hills of Dor-en-ernil to the east. This early in the still cool of the morning the light slanted low through the mist and glimmered where it touched the dew upon the grey-green leaves of oleander. They were wreathed in scent. First in the sultry, musky fragrance of thyme bruised by the passing of Gaeron's hooves and then by the sweet perfume of lavender that nodded lazily in the wind.

With the free sea-wind billowing his cloak of silver grey and whipping chestnut mane and raven braids alike they galloped past the fair tower of Tirith Aear and wound down onto the flat. Here about the wide sandy sheltered bay of Cobas Haven the land was lower, all mounds grey-green scrub amongst low dark rocks and broad grassy verge starred with yellow flowers. A few pinnacles of rock stood silent sentinel at the heads of smaller scalloped bays. It was a beautiful sight. One he had the morning and enough provision to enjoy.

As they pounded fast, sending sheets of errant wave spray to wet them both, the sea sparkled in the sun. Almost he could find the sight inviting, at least when perched solidly on horseback, but not inviting enough to cross. Unlike his grandfather and his uncle there was no great longing in his breast for aught more than a ride beside its pretty scene. The sea for him held no allure, it did not call, siren-like, eternal as the gulls, as he knew it did for Legolas.

And he suspected sometimes it did for his twin.

Soon their father would depart for the west, traverse the waters that had divided he and his long-dead brother for so many lives of men. Elrohir and Elladan had discussed the coming separation many times. They had chosen to not be parted, to not face the eternal pain their father so stoically endured. Elrohir, however much he loved the sea, would not go without him and he would not go yet. Perhaps one day, perhaps when Arwen passed (Eru may that be long away), but for now Elladan was not ready. There was much to do and learn.

Morning wore on and by a small rocky point he paused, reached for his waterskin and drank. The light was now so high and bright it struck sparks upon the water where the waves danced. Together, they picked their wavy carefully through the foaming surf, rounded the jut of rock into the next little cove.

At first when Elladan heard the sound he thought he heard the wave-song of the sea. A fleeting note of longing came to him, sighing low and gently of green lands and bright high cloud, wide green sea and possibility. They trotted some minutes more and soon enough the sound became clearer, more distinct, as if they approached a hidden source.

Thinking it some tumbling music of running water he looked around but spied no streams to hand. Behind the little bay lay only meadow, low cotton grass and mounds of pink star-flowers amongst the jumbled rocks.

Elladan shook his head and cocked an ear. The sound was no dream, he could the faint sybillation even though the wind had nearly died. Nothing stirred the nodding white tufts of cotton. No gull floated on the thermals overhead

Could it be that he finally heard the sea-call of which their grandmother Galadriel had spoken?

Heart-thudding with an inchoate excitement Elladan steered Gaeron along the strand and soon the song became a voice. Sweet syllables of Elvish fell like clear jewels of blended word and melody; a melody as beautiful as any he had heard in Imadris and yet he knew it not.

Gaeron trotted on, picking up his hooves and almost dancing amongst the waves. There were seastacks afore and surely the source was around the next pinnacle of sparkling grey? They made their way gingerly across the lose shingle and now words of Quenya, the High Elven tongue, grew ever more distinct. The strand afore seemed to shimmer, as if there was a golden mist above the bright shore and seas of foam, one that cast fleeting visions in the air.

Elladan whistled and Gaeron came to a halt, placidly waiting in the ebbing tide that swirled about his legs. The ellon tucked one loose braid behind his ear and listened. An elleth's voice, high and light, drifted sweetly, entrancing, weaving a spell of far off lands and heart's happy ease, all that was good and bright, that a fea sighed for, beyond the margins of the world. It was like a dream and yet one he had never known 'til then. In its gentle rush he felt an endless swell of desire, blue-green as the sea and golden as the morning sun. He let it flow over him, felt the very air throb and wondered for a moment if he might drown. Be swept away within the rising tide of longing.

He urged the big chestnut on, overcome with an eagerness to find the singer. They rode on and on through the brightening air, the high sun overhead now sparkling upon the woven nets of spray that twinkled on every bush. Thirst and hunger stole through his limbs but Elladan felt not the urge to slake either one.

The song… The song was what he craved.

Round yet another wildly tilting stack Elladan spied something darting amongst the waves. The sun glimmered on something bright and dark. A sea otter perhaps? But no, as the creature flipped again it appeared too large for such. For the first time in many hours gulls circled overhead, wheeling and diving into the water beside the form.

Intrigued, he dismounted and led Gaeron between the broken stones and across the coarse, wet sand to rest in the lee of a jutting slate grey block.

As the pair drew nigh Elladan had laughed at himself. Surely something was wrong with his sight for the flash and sheen he first took for dark glistening fur was actually the wink of a nacred bead of shell glinting in an ellith's long dark hair. She stood still for but a moment and her song (his song for he now thought of it as such), swelled high above. Then, quick as lightening, she dove down, a pair of slender legs kicked up and one bare ankle peeked above the waves, then it too was gone as she reached to pluck something from the sandy seabed.

It was then he realized the song had ceased.

Ah…she was a fisherwoman, singing as she worked. Elladan caught the rough edges of a net resting on the sand and a basket just beside. Perhaps the elleth was gathering mussels or oysters for a meal? As he watched, transfixed, she breached the blue-green surface and stood once more, a parcel of shiny oval shells in each hand.

Eru but she was beautiful.

Hair as blue-black as the sheen of a raven's wing fell loose about her hips. It was not bound like his in warrior braids but fell in a silken, shell-studded curtain to cover her naked skin. Her face was elegant and fair, graced with bright grey eyes and bow-shaped lips that shone wet and pink against the alabaster of her skin. Upon her throat and neck, water droplets like diamonds glinted in the sun.

She was, he thought, like one of Varda's stars fell to Arda's earth.

As he stood entranced, Gaeron shifting restlessly beside, the elleth placed her find in a net slung low across her back and dove again. He marveled at her ease. Elladan could swim, he had learned in the swift and cold Baraduin, but that was not the sea. The current here could be fierce but her strong, lithe body cut through the water as if it were but air.

He watched her surface but did not interrupt. It felt almost furtive to stand and spy her dance-like movements but he could not turn away. Who was she? Why was she alone with naught but the birds who picked at discarded shells for company? He tore his gaze from the water's edge but could see no path, no hut or habitation close to the shore.

Perhaps he should move forward and introduce himself? He wished to move but a heaviness, a lethargy, had stolen across his limbs and he merely stood, watching the ethereal creature dive and dive again.

When at last the tide had fully turned the elleth walked out of the darker water to lay her net upon the wet golden sand. The sea had calmed, lay smooth as glass and uncaring of the gulls' thin and raucous cries. The westering sun cast shadows now amongst the rocks and tinged her skin rose-gold.

An urge to speak, to call and ask to hear her song again grew stronger. Like the tide it pounded in his blood, darkling and insistent at the edges of his sight.

"Ai… beautiful one!"

She turned at his quiet cry and for the barest instant favoured him with a smile.

Suddenly he was squeezing through the looming stone, scrambling over fringing rocks, uncaring that the shale sliced into his palms. Desperate in his desire to close the gulf between. The loose ground below was slick, covered in a moss-green coat of weed and before he gained the free, shell-strewn shore he slipped: lost his balance and fell hard down onto his knees.

Cursing and grabbing blindly for purchase Elladan pulled up again. He stepped more carefully then, limping just a little from an awkward ankle twist and ignoring the bloodied rent in his riding breeches. Gaeron whinnied nervously just behind but stayed where he was bid.

At last he passed the rocky screen and the vista opened wide.

The beach was empty and she was gone…

.

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

_With her voice she enchants, with her beauty she deprives of reason._

_Cornelius a Lapide_

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Elladan.?”

 

“Elladan?” 

 

The ellon looked up, startled to find his foster-brother staring pointedly his way and frowning in consternation.  The whole table had paused in their meal, cutlery poised in the air or laid briefly down, amused and surprise expressions flared like little candles.  It was unusual to hear their King raise his voice.  Moreso to hear a hint of annoyance in it.

 

Elladan, with difficulty, dragged his attention up to meet his foster-brother’s dark grey gaze.  He flushed, embarrassed to have been caught day dreaming.  It was rude to have ignored the conversation.  Even worse to have caused an interruption and it was not in his nature to be rude.  

 

“Elladan?” 

 

“Estel?”     

 

The King was thankfully only somewhat exasperated  to find he had to say his name a third time but now a hint of worry rode his furrowed brow.  “What is so engrossing on your plate toren?”   

 

_My plate?_    Was that what he had been looking at?  

 

Elladan reached hastily for his goblet and took a gulp, hoping the wine would excuse the blush of colour on his cheeks.   What should he say?  Not that he been seeing a vision of sleek black hair and lithe long limbs, an elleth darting swiftly as a sea-otter in the blue-green sea.  Now back in Dol Amroth’s elegant stone palace the afternoon did not seen quite real and he was loathe to admit his day’s adventure. 

 

“It is only that this fine fish is more interesting than your fish story,” he quipped, quirking a smile to soften the jab and thanking the Valar that he had heard Estel start the tale, now many, many minutes earlier.   

 

Laughter echoed round the torch lit dining room.   Aragorn had actually nearly made a catch that day despite the ale that had been consumed, and now Eomer picked up the thread, recounting the near misses of the other guests.  The boat had come back empty of provision but in high good spirits. 

 

Elladan sat back, relieved, and tried to concentrate for a while but soon enough there came a gentle dig in his ribs and a measuring look from Elrohir just beside.  With a start he realized he was once again pushing food around the elegant porcelain plate in little looping circles, almost the same shape as the winkles in _her_ hair.  

 

“Is the food not to your liking hir nin?” asked Princess Lothiriel anxiously from across the table.  He had eaten very little and Dol Amroth’s hostess now had a sharp line of worry between her elegant shapely brows.  It looked familiar and tried to think where he had seen it.  Of course. On her cousin Faramir.  It must be something of a family trait. 

 

His denial was swift.  “No.  Not all my lady. I am simply not that hungry.”   It would not do to have their hosts’ think he was unhappy in any way.   With an effort he speared a substantial piece of swordfish and placed it in his mouth.   It felt like chewing glass.      

 

“Toren, what is up with you?  Are you ailing?”  Elrohir’s fair face held a smile but his whispered words were anxious.  He had already gracefully chided his penneth for his late return for dinner.  Elladan had been aghast to find the sun nearly lowered when he returned.  It had not seemed he’d spent so long within the cove.       

 

“Nay brother.  Perhaps I had a bit much sun.”  The excuse sounded thin even to his own ears but mollified Elrohir enough to leave off questioning for a while. 

 

With a last glance of wary puzzlement his brother raised his cup of wine and listened to Prince Amrothos’ latest jest. 

 

Conversation swirled around and although Elladan tried to follow along, in truth his concentration broke again.  A vision of entrancing beauty swam before his eyes.   What was her name?   Where did she dwell?   He had not thought that Edhelhond was populated in these latter days but clearly he had been wrong.   Perhaps he should ask Prince Imrahil?   Yet even as he turned to his left and opened his mouth to speak something stayed his voice. 

 

No. _Not yet._   He was not ready to share her with the world

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, although he fairly itched to leave,  Elladan found he was unable to ride out again until the afternoon.  He passed a pleasant if impatient morning following his little brother through Dol Amroth’s fabled markets, doing his best to hide a little grumpiness after a night of poor reverie.    As the twins strolled and did their best to accept the people’s stares with grace he commented when asked on the crafts and spices, swords and books that abounded at every turn. 

 

If Elrohir was concerned at his unaccustomed quiet the ellon kept it to himself.  Just as _he_ did the details of his strange encounter the day before.  It felt wrong.  They did not often keep secrets from one another but Elladan did simply not know what to say.    _I am obsessed with seeing an elleth again_?  _I see her face before my eyes now every waking minute of the day?_ All that was true yet seemed so unbelievable that that embarrassment stayed his tongue.    

 

Elladan heaved a sigh of ill-concealed relief when his brother finally left to spar for the afternoon and quickly led his mount out along the palisade.   

 

Soon they were thundering across the strand once more.  The day, if anything, was finer than the one before and he felt alive, fairly crackling with energy.  The salt-tanged wind whipped his raven hair and blew the fuzzy cobwebs away.  A sense of anticipation, of excitement, built in his chest and he nearly shouted for joy to soon see _the_ seastack, the one before her bay. 

 

They flew before the breeze toward the rocks,  Gaeron’s flanks flecked with foam and spray as the rocky head rose up.   

 

“Whoa, my friend.”  He leaned forward urgently and spoke aloud.  The wind was whipping his words away and he need to be heard.   In his haste they had nearly reached the verge. 

 

As the big chestnut slowed and picked his way carefully through the rock-strewn surf Elladan felt once again the sudden change in the wind.  Around the point the sea grew calm and the bay shimmered before his sight. 

 

Elladan let out a breath he did not know that he had held.

 

_Elbereth.    She was there._

 

The elleth stood just at the tide’s near reach, pulling a net hand over hand from out of the deeper surf.  She bent and with a long fine hand plucked a few molluscs and cast the net again.   Her song this day was soothing, flowing in time to the pull of the waves and the toss of the net’s dark braid.  

 

He watched, entranced. 

 

A cloth of unbleached linen was wound around her hips.  Winkle shells twined through the flowing locks that reached to her hips and covered the alabaster of her naked skin.  The sun sparkled in the spray that dotted her perfect, smooth muscled back and legs, gleamed in her long raven hair.   

 

She was beautiful. 

 

Should he speak?   It felt wrong to interrupt but need surged past the fear and he walked boldly onto the sand.   

 

“Ayae…..Quel adune?”    For a reason he could not discern the ancient quenya words of greeting felt just right. 

 

The elleth stilled mid-throw and the net bobbed forgotten on the wave.   She turned and once more he met the deep-grey gaze.  It was a well, fathomless and dark, and surely he would drown. 

 

“Mae govannen ernilen.”  _Well met my prince_.    He smiled at the formal phrase and strange accent in her words.  Grandmother spoke so sometimes when she talked of Valinor and Beleriand of old, of Gondolin and the Age before his birth.

 

The graceful timbre of her voice sent a shiver down his spine. 

 

“I did not mean to startle you, dî nín.  I was-“  _Spying on you?_ What should he say?   “riding the beach, ”  he finished after the barest of hesitations.

 

The fair oval face tilted to one side as if gauging the truth in his words. “You are welcome here, hir nin.  This land is for the use of all.”      

 

 

Which land?  Edhelhond?  But the elleth had turned back to her work, casting the net a little farther this time and humming loudly as she went.   Her voice was rich and warm, like honey, like the pure nectar of _elanor_ and he simply had to be near to its spring.

 

“May I help?   Your net looks heavy.”   He cringed inside: what a ridiculous thing to say. The long smooth muscles on her legs and thighs showed she was more than capable to manage by herself but the elleth only smiled and waved her hand. ..   

 

“You may.  But you will get soaked, hir nin.  The tide is rising.”

 

Without a moment’s hesitation he quickly removed his boots and stockings and rolled up his cuffs.  

 

A lilting giggle met his first step into the surf and swiftly beat retreat.  He had not expected the force of the ocean’s pull and at once he was wet up to his knees.   

 

“It would be far more prudent if you removed your breeches too.”   

 

The water was not too very cold and the sun was warm on his face and neck.  Elladan quickly shucked off his leather breeches and .pulled off his shirt.  There.  With nothing but his smallclothes he could come to no great harm.   He waded out. The sand was soft underfoot but he stepped gingerly around the rocks. 

 

“What is your name?”  he asked, reaching for and gripping hard the net.  It was heavy and the sea’s salt stung in the sword nicks upon his fingers.  The sharp scent of brine and mineral filled the air. 

 

“Liniel.”

 

“That is a pretty name.  I am Elladan.”  

 

“Star man.”   She smiled but before she could say more something flashed and, quick a darting shorebird,  she grasped a flapping fish.   It was smooth and silver and just big enough to eat. 

 

Liniel placed it quickly in a woven basket that hung beside her hip and motioned him to move.  They pulled together and soon enough there were more silver prizes.   Once the net was full they waded back to the shore and soon her dark head bent down and inspected the ocean’s bounty. 

 

Elladan tried not to stare as the curtain of her hair fell away. 

 

One by one the winkles, mussels and little fish were plucked and placed in the basket that now bobbed, tied to a handy rock.  The catch was entirely too much for one elleth to eat.   He wondered who else she fed and where they lived.    

 

He busied himself with straightening the net, tamping down the desire to hear her speak again. 

 

So intent was he on doing a proper job that he nearly leapt out of skin to find her warm breath huffing against his neck and a wet hand upon his shoulder blade.

 

“You are different,” Soft inquistive fingers traced thoughtfully along his skin.  “Broader than any ellon I know.” 

 

He turned in the circle of her arms and now the eyes deep as the reach of time followed the slight dusting of darker hair from his chest down to his waist.     

 

He flushed.  “I am Peredhel.”

 

“Since when does royalty pull fishing nets?”

 

“Royalty?”  he laughed, giddily.  “I am not royalty.” 

 

The bright grey gaze grew quizzical.  “The only Peredhil this side the sundering seas are the sons of Earendil.” 

 

Peredhil?  Sons?  But surely she knew his uncle was long gone?   “I am his grandson.  But royal or no a Peredhel pulls fishing nets when a beautiful elleth is all alone.” 

 

For a moment he wondered if he had been too forward for she dropped her arms and went back to her task.  He tried not to fret as he began to fold the net for carrying and casting.  Each time he rose and straightened another fold he cast a glance her way.

 

Without ceremony, the store of fish were cleaned and gutted, the beards scrubbed from the shells and the day’s haul readied for the pot.   Liniel straightened and slipped her sharp dagger into a leather thong, picked up a leather flask from a small cache in the lee of a large rock. 

 

“Would you like a drink?”

 

Elladan longed to, it was thirsty work and the sun was strong, yet even as he reached he stayed his hand.     Fresh water would be precious here and he should not take from hers.   

 

“There is no need I have my own.”  

 

He plucked his own tooled flask from off his discarded belt and offered it across.   Liniel smiled her thanks and lifted the bottle up.  The westering sun flashed against the metal base and blinded him all at once.   When had the angle of the sun got that low?   Had he not just left?  

 

Elladan eyed with a sinking heart the slight tinge of pink across the water.  The time had flown and once more he would be late.   

 

“I must get back.” 

 

Liniel accepted the statement with no comment, merely nodding and reaching for the last unfolded corner of the net.  He felt churlish to leave the job undone and so he reached ,  

crossed his hands on hers in his haste to catch the stiff wet rope.  

 

A jolt, a flare of desire ran straight to his core. 

 

Elladan looked up.   All at once it was as if he too were a sea creature, bound and helpless;  out of his element and held fast shimmering chains of purest grey.  He felt frozen in her gaze, rooted to the spot,  yet oddly dizzy, as if he were falling into the fathomless depths of eyes  as storm-tossed as the sea. 

 

“Liniel.”  

 

He raised his hand to brush the back of his fingers across her cheek.  The skin below was soft beyond imaging.  The waning sun warmed her pale skin and he could not resist.  Lips followed where his fingers touched.  Once.  Twice. Thrice,

 

She sighed and leaned into his chest.  The beautiful face was graced with a single tear and he raised his thumb to wipe the wet-salt away.  So much of joy and ardor shone within her eyes  his blood fired with a sweetness that he had never known.  What was this?  What sang between them both? 

 

Rapt in wonder he felt bright as the setting sun across the water and just as strong.  The glow of sunset wreathed them round and flashed upon a wave that climbed up on the shore.  Deep  and ancient eyes glowed with it once and of a sudden Liniel shook her head and  pulled away.

 

 “My Lord.  My Lord-”  She struggled to speak.   The dark lashes swept down and a hand raised to his chest.   “Hurry.  You must go.”    

 

Liniel glanced worriedly out to sea, biting her lip and shooing him away.  Elladan looked but saw naught of ill upon the placid waves.  Only the sea and the sky and few kittiwakes swinging lazily on the rising breeze.  It gusted once and brushed a stray tendril of her hair across his cheek.

 

“Hurry?  Why?  I should get back but-”   He sought to grab her hand but now both were on his chest, trembling, pushing him away. 

 

“Go!”  

 

Gaeron whinnied nervously and the spell ( _had it been a spell?)_ was broken. Liniel seemed skittish as a newborn foal as she stepped, bare feet tracking deeper once she reached dark, tide-seeped strand.   

 

He did not understand what had changed but clearly she desired for him to go.  Though he did not wish to leave it would be unseemly to push her more.   Confused, worried that he had transgressed, Elladan dressed  quickly and readied himself to ride.  There was sand in his stockings and clinging to his breech cuffs where they were damp. 

 

The feeling of her skin still burned upon his lips. 

 

He whistled to Gaeron but the big chestnut did not trot forward, would not leave his place in the deepening shadow of the stack.  The horse’s nostrils flared in fear.  

 

_Something was wrong_.   

 

Elladan strode quickly to his side, murmured soothing words and sprang quickly up.    Gaeron wheeled like a compass unerringly to home and he threw his muddled braids across back his shoulder.    Without a word the horse began to navigate the rocky shoal. 

 

They were almost at the point, almost to the turn where he would not see her if he looked back when Elladan felt a tug upon his soul. 

 

It would be wrong to leave without a final word.  

 

 “Namarie.”     His farewell was pitched to carry above the sound of wind and wave but as he turned, the last rays of the sunset bloomed orange-pink upon the few drifting clouds. 

 

His heart clenched painfully in his chest.

 

Liniel was gone.   

 

The rising tide had already swept all traces of their day from off the beach as if it had been a dream.


	3. Chapter 3

I must get my soul back from you  
Sylvia Plath.

\--------------------------------

Elrohir watched his brother as they broke their fast. They sat with Prince Imrahil and his large and boisterous family at a long stone table beneath an arbour draped in grapes. All around were the scents and sounds of Dol Amroth’s fabled gardens and before them was laid a sumptuous spread: breads and pastries, half a dozen different types of exotic fruit, rich cheeses and the small smoked fish that the people of Belfalas seemed to eat with every meal. 

Elladan had not touched a thing. 

“Toren,” He laid a hand on his brother’s arm, ebony braids swinging as he leaned close, his lyrical voice carrying no further than his brother’s ear.

The older ellon started, he had clearly been miles away, lost in his thoughts and not even noticing his twin. “You are too quiet. And have not eaten or drunk this morn? What ails?” 

“Nothing.” Elladan’s response was automatic but Elrohir was not fooled. His brother had hardly eaten yesterday as well. Had not joined in the dancing at the party the eve before nor played cards nor spoken to many of the other guests. Elladan had simply sat in the private window seat, gazing north across the water lost in thought. It was so unlike his brother that at first Elrohir had let him be, wondering if some sort of sea longing had taken hold his heart. But now seeing it like go on for another day, hearing each denial anew he had to act. 

It was time to pull his twin out of himself. 

“Would you like me to join you on your ride today?” Elrhoir asked, putting more bright hopefulness in his smile than sat in his anxious chest. “We could head south. Erchirion says there is great fishing from the beach. You could catch something without getting wet.” 

“No…” Elladan’s voice was hard and flat, so unlike himself that the sound of it sets a tendril of fear within his breast. Across the table Estel had looked up at the unaccustomed sound. He too had a worried frown upon his face, was lending only half an ear to Arwen’s talk of silks and threads and all her new ideas for needlecraft. 

Some thing was wrong and he will not let it rest until he knew. 

 

“Toren.” 

Cautiously he probed the other’s thoughts. Their bond was strong. Always they had been able to hear the other and sense when one was sad or joyous, in pain or hurt. He pushed against the swirl of dull surface thought to find an ominous dark blank that he could not breach. 

It is not something he has known before. 

“’Dan!” His panicked plea was louder than he planned and suddenly every face around the table is turned their way. 

Perhaps the sound roused where touch had not. His brother’s oddly blank eyes have caught something of light. Elladan shivered and looked around as if just noticing they were there. 

Prince Imrahil, ever the diplomat, cleared his throat and bravely spoke into the embarrassed silence.

“Lord Elladan what do you think of Cobas Haven’s sheltered shore? It is wide and with a steady breeze less hot than we get just east. It has always been one of my favourite places for a ride.” 

“It is very beautiful indeed,” The dark grey eyes were smiling. Elrohir silently let out a breath and watched, heart in mouth, as his brother washed his hands anxiously in his lap. He seemed to be weighing the urge to speak, hesitating to raise a point but then finally carried on. 

“I saw someone…”

“You did?” Imrahil smiled and leaned forward with interest, relieved as he that the words were so seemingly innocent. “Well it is uncommon but not unheard of. One of the families from the next village picnicing by the shore?” 

“No, “ Elladan replied, a rosy flush staining his previously pale cheek. “An elleth. I was surprised. I did not know any folk still lived in Edhelhond.” 

Imrahil’s white eyebrows practically jumped up to his brow. “There have been no Eldar living there since before Numenor was drowned. Perhaps you were mistaken. The light was bad….”

Elladan shook his head. “No. She was singing. I heard her speak and saw her clearly. She was no child of the Edain.”

“Perhaps he found a selkie…” Amrothos began teasingly and Erchiron chuckled and took up the thought. “You had best watch out Elladan. A siren might take your soul and whisk you away to die of want.” 

“Stuff and nonsense. “ Imrahil glowered at his sons. “Excuse my ridiculous offspring my Lord, those are but sailors’ tales, fits of ardor after days at sea. The only elf-maid to steal hearts in these parts was Mithrellas, my foremother. And none died in the exchange.” 

“Have some of your brethren chosen settle by the shore?” Faramir asked Legolas, who had watched the exchange with a look of puzzlement on his fair face. 

“Not that I am aware. All those who came south with me are in Ithilien.”

There was no consensus and soon finished their repast, the group broke up. Off to various errands and entertainment. The wedding was the next day and Lothiriel was to have final touches put to her dress. Eowyn and Arwen had planned to help and the Rohirrim were to bestow the bride price and morning gift. For the morning at least the other’s were at liberty. 

Elrohir followed his brother to the stable. 

‘Elladan.?” 

The ellon looked up from where he was again saddling his mount. The deep lapis of his warrior beads glinted in the morning light as one hand twisted a lock restlessly. 

“You will ride again? May I not come?”

 

“There is no need. I will not be long…” Elladan fidgeted with Gaeron’s tack. Gaeron in turn shuffled nervously at his side. 

It did not take their bond for him to tell his usually thoughtful, diplomatic, utterly exasperating brother was lying, though why he could not guess. Never before has he treated me this way. The thought was startling. It was as if some enchantment had taken the brother that he new and replaced him with another ellon, impulsive, secretivie. 

It seemed impossible and yet…..

It took mere moments after Elladan had left for Elrohir to saddle his faithful grey. He rode quickly but quietly as he could, hanging back out of his brother’s hearing, following easily Gaeron’s track for the pair made no effort to be hid. He took no notice of the scenery or plants, spared no thought for birds or beast, intent only on divining where his brother went. 

The sun was climbing over head when they rounded a rocky head. He felt the loss the morning’s steady offshore breeze, saw the sea calm as they entered the little cove. All was quiet and serene. It was a placid place, pretty, but quite empty of all but the strip of sea wrack left by the tide.

Elrohir stayed mounted, hid behind the rocks as he watched his elder brother dismount and walk with ease through the jumbled rocks. Elladan headed purposely down the strand, long limbs quickly eating up the short distance to the sand, eyes fixed on something in the quiet space. 

He craned his neck to see but to his eye there was nothing there. It made not sense. Elladan was walking forward as if he had a goal in sight but the cove was empty. There was just the sea and the kittiwakes circling lazily on the warm, still air and his brother, striding eagerly, the shining sun glittering in his hair.

And then, even that sparkle was lost to view. 

From one footstep to the next, Elladan was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elladan takes a fateful step.....

_I want this music and this dawn and the warmth of your cheek against mine_

_Rumi_

The evening passed for Elladan in a blur. He had no memory of what he said to whom or what he ate or drank, with whom he sat, or what he saw. The bed, when he finally sought it, was too soft and piled with pillows to smother in. He found no rest. The night passed in endless tossing and turning, winding and unwinding of the sheets, until at last the cry of the sea birds greeted the bashful dawn.

He rose and dressed. Covered his skin with what lay discarded on the floor because all he could think of was getting back to the cove, to _her_ , and opening a cupboard took too much time.

For Elrohir he forced himself to wait and pretend he had some other purpose for the day.

Sunset to sunrise. The time seemed like an eternity but now, storm-cloud eyes fixed upon the shining strand, his heart and breath both felt they were tripping far too fast. As if they were a rock skipped just so, swiftly and with skill, across the still shimmer of the sea.

Liniel was there.

He stopped and let out a relieved breath, stood rooted to the spot and drank in the smile that played about her lips. It was fleeting, some shell or curiosity had caught her fancy and she bent to pull it from the strand.

"Liniel!"

At his cry she looked up, a knife and small net of rope held to one side, lips parted in pleased surprise. "Quel amrun, Ellandan." To hear her voice again sent shivers down his spine.

Of course he ran, braids flying in his haste, sliding to a stop just inches from the waves. A trembling hand reached out because he could not stand a moment more without her touch.

"Come, " she said, clasping her hand in his. "I need to gather food for the day. You may help."

He did and stood as she undressed him, her free hand nimbly undoing buttons while the other clutched the small and deadly steel.

Its cold touched him, in passing, once.

Elladan shivered once again and Liniel, delighted, laughed, eyes sparkling in the sun. "It is good to have your blood burning for today the sea is cold."

They dove down. Again and again, lungs bursting, clutching at the rough, nobbly oyster shells with chilled and fumbling fingers. After the nets were full, together they made a fire of driftwood and set a small pot of fresh water on to boil. While they waited Liniel inspected the nets for wear. On impulse Elladan grabbed a piece of the braided, dry withy robe and twined it into a band. It scratched a little at his wrist but felt right, more at home than the mithril ring he sometimes wore, and he grinned, absurdly pleased at his simple handiwork.

"What are these?" Liniel's hand upon his hair brought up his startled gaze at once. She fingered a lapis bead and Elladan flushed, felt a sudden heat stain his cheeks. His hair was his one vanity. He kept it a bit longer than his brother: the glossy midnight curtain hung to the middle of his back but in the front it was braided off his face, bound in carved lapis beads that shone bluer than the sky.

"I am a twin," he explained. "Lapis for me and mithril for my brother, he who is the knight. That way others can tell us apart." He unwound a long dark braid and held a bead out for her to finger. "Do ellyn in your settlement not wear braids?"

"Nay…" Liniel replied, rolling it curiously around his palm, before turning away to sprinkle a few dried herbs into the bubbling pot. "Are you not also a knight?"

"Not as such. Why do you ask?"

"You move as one. With authority, but also with gentleness and grace."

The unexpected compliment made Elladan's heart leap with joy. "You are far more graceful than am I."

Liniel quickly shook her head. The little shells wound throughout her own silken strands tinkled as they moved. "I am but a simple fisherwoman."

"Well you certainly have snared me."

Even as the words left his lips Elladan realized it was no jest. It was true was it not? There was a lightness, a fullness in his chest when she was near. It was like nothing he had felt before, encompassed all his fea and could not be kept inside.

Liniel flushed but did not answer, hid her face as she tend the pot again, tossed the oysters into the fragrant brine and stirred carefully. He wondered, watching the rosy glow on her beautifully sculpted cheeks, if he had embarrassed her, had been wrong to speak out so and for a moment his heart clenched painfully but then she smiled and looked askance, asking for him to pass a carved wooden bowl and all seemed well again.

They shared the one fork and a plain stoneware plate and drank the clear yellow Dol Amroth wine he had brought as the simple repast was passed back and forth between them. To eat shellfish straight from the ocean's bed was a novelty and Elladan found himself eating eagerly, so entranced by the briny, exotic taste that in his haste he burned his mouth on one morsel pulled straight from the pot.

"Ow."

"You are a greedy one." Liniel's merry laugh made him sputter and pull a teasing pout. She leaned close, brushed sand off her hand before raising to touch his cheek. She smiled apologetically. "Let me soothe your wounded pride."

A pair of sun-kissed, moistened lips pecked quick kiss beside his mouth. Before they could flit away he caught Liniel's hand in his, pulled her close, imagining the heat and sweetness of her mouth, the dance of her tongue, a hand tangled in his hair. _Valar_ , she was everything an ellon could ever want. He leaned forward to press a kiss of his own but found another oyster quickly popped into his mouth.

Liniel giggled as he licked at the warm juice that dribbled down his chin and playfully pushed him back, both hands flat against his shoulders.

He let himself fall back, pulled her down to the strand. To lie warm against his chest while her elegant finger traced thoughtfully along his lower lip. The sun-warmed sand sent a pleasant heat into his limbs to mingle with the heat that fired in his blood.

They lay so, not speaking, chest to chest, Liniel's head tucked below his chin, while the sun westered lazily and the tide began to turn. It seemed to Elladan that time stood still, that there could be no more perfect place in all of Arda: sea and sky above and the most beautiful ellith he knew nestled in his arms. His heart pounded so hard, was so very full, it felt it might burst straight from his chest.

A slow smile curved against his collarbone. "Elladan, oysters are said by the Edain to increase a man's ardor. I have always wondered what they would do to a young and healthy ellon."

_Do?_

All at once he caught Liniel's wrist in one strong hand and flipped them over, straddled her hips and laid a hand beside her head. Her midnight hair had spread like a halo about her face, the luminous pale grey eyes glittered like the sun upon the waves.

_Oh but she was beautiful._

Swiftly, he bent down, touched his forehead to hers, mouth poised bare inches from her own. The small perfect lips he longed to kiss parted in anticipation. A bead of lapis blue tickled at her cheek but he had no mind to move it.

"Nothing..." he breathed, "nothing could make me want you more.."

"And do you always get what you want?"

A drumming rose in his ears. Dimmly he knew it to be his heart, swelled in time with the clash of desire in his blood.

"Yes.."

Liniel shut her eyes and tilted back her head, bared the soft skin in the hollow of her throat. It was entrancing. The perfect skin begged to be kissed but yet, for one liquid moment, Elladan hesitated. _Should he?_ She was golden and yielding and soft below his body but if he gave in now, if he claimed those lips, he knew there would be no end. He would be lost _._ In her eyes. Her voice. Her arms.

For all eternity, for his people gave of themselves but once.

He shivered though there was no wind. _Then so be it._

At once he dipped his head and the taste of brine and smoky creamy flesh was yet upon her lips.

Their kiss was searing, it promised fires more searing still and he wanted them. Wanted _her_.

It was agony to pull away but he did, caught her gaze. Below Liniel's smile was slow and sultry, her eyes dark knowing pools of sudden need. She nodded once, answered the question he had yet to ask, though he had parted his lips to speak.

"Then come, lay yourself down. Let your ocean beat against my shore."

The voice Elladan had loved from the first held a low huskiness, a timbre that was new.  It made him dizzy.  Made him faint with need.

“Elladan?”     He gazed into her storm-cloud eyes and the look of need to match his own made his heart skip another beat.  The rays of waning sun cast a red  glow on her raven hair.  He brushed it softly before a patch of roiling cloud, thick with the promise of rain, tumbled across the sky.  There was static in the air; his skin prickled and he knew not if it was the air or the height of anticipation.  _Did it matter truly?_

“You are fire,” he said, savouring the silk of a long dark strand as it wound between his fingers.    

“No I am the sea….”  

Her fingers caught at his nape and pulled him down to claim the kiss Elladan had wished for from the first.  It felt as if his whole being, all his time had come down to that moment, to that kiss, the wild abandon of Liniel’s hair against his fingers, the eager plunder of her mouth, the tang of the sea all around making his head reel.

It was warm and melting and he thought he might faint when her tongue came out to play.  Their kiss became wild, searing, tongues sliding back and forth between a hard press of lips that seemed to last an Age.  He moaned into her mouth, dizzy suddenly for lack of air. 

Reluctantly, he pulled way, leaned upon one elbow and drank in the sight before his eyes.

Liniel lay below, the dimming light making her face a series of planes and shadows, her eyes grey mirror pools holding a promise that send a his blood straight to his groin.   The tawny skin of her chest and breasts was exposed before his gaze.  

“Eru, lle naa vanimabu,  you are beautiful.”  he breathed, running his hand to snake along her ribs.  She was.  She was lithe and lean, sun-kissed with a myriad of little freckles that dotted across her satin skin like the stars in a tawny sky. 

“As are you, hir nin.  Come, be welcome in Yavanna’s name.”       

“Hmmmm.” he dipped his head and melted tiny kisses into her skin.  Swept an eager tongue across the hollow of her neck and up around the tip of a perfectly pointed ear.  

She hissed at his sudden onslaught, arched her back and hummed in bliss.  _Elbereth_ the tracery of fawned-coloured dots now exposed to his view were  sprinkled across the tempting hollow between her velvet breasts, across the gentle swell of her stomach.  They were  so very like the night-sky in Rivendell, a map of hidden meaning, some points great, some small, but altogether a myriad of constellations strewn on a vault of creamy silken skin. 

He longed to map them with his tongue.   

“Liniel?”

“Hmmm?”  her voice was sultry and slow.  He could see his own irises in hers, ringed by the barest band of grey.  Her chest rose and fell invitingly.  She too was dizzy with growing need.  “I would know your body more?  May I explore?”

“Sweet Elbereth,” she gasped, “yes please.”  

Before he could think a second more, Elladan drew up and slid down along her body, reached for her shapely leg and picked it up.   He dipped his mouth once more and  licked at each freckle that he could reach, ran the very tip of his tongue in a double curve above her ankle. 

“Wilwarin. The Queen.  Set by Varda as a butterfly to fly forever bound for her great pride.”   Her skin was soft and warm but his mouth was wet and warmer still.  The barest shiver told him to move on.

 Both hands slid along a shapely calf and raised it up.    “Telumendil,” he breathed, touching thrice just the tiniest patch of satin along a bow’s great arc.   “The Huntsman.  Sure and swift, chasing his quarry around the Sun.”    That raised a  smile this time and a deeper breath.  Her nipples peaked and  he bit his lip, mouth watering at the thought of swirling his tongue around them both, .claim each in turn.  Valar but he want to lick the swelling curve above but first he must finish the exquisite torment.   

“Annarima, Edge of the Sun, blazing fire-bright, wild and untameable.”  Words and tongue ghosted in dizzy swirls across her inner thigh.   They were too hot, too near and tantalizing and her hips began rock.  The tiny panting breaths became a gasp.   She twisted, arching her back to bring her yearning core closer to his lips.

  
_“Patience.”_   he scolded and she groaned in raw frustration to be pulled back from the focus of her need.  He slid her up into his arms, turned her to face away so that he might feast on the tapestry of her slender back. 

 _“Close your eyes.”_ Oh so slowly he placed his hands on either side her neck and ducked his head.    

Soft lips drew a wing upon her nape.  “Soronume, the Eagle of the West.  The eyes of the King upon the World.”    His tongue coiled farther down, a hand sliding across her shoulder blade, fingers mapping the route his tongue would take.  Each time his finger touched she quivered, knowing his mouth was sure to come.

 “Menelmacar,  the Swordsman of the Heavens, son of Tulkas and of Nessa.”   He could feel her breathing faster now, see the smooth skin of her back rising and falling in time to his whisperings.  The thought of her lips parted in anticipation set a low fire in his blood but he could not stop.  There was one was figure left.   

“Valacirca. The Sickle of the Valar, a warning to Melkor of their might.”  His fingers slid around her waist to trace lightly across  her ribs.  “Seven stars, each one set to welcome the Eldar to the world.”  One by one Faramir rained a row of kisses along the freckles of her spine.  With each kiss, each lick, Liniel arched her back, grinding deeper into his lap.  His kisses alone had made her wet and now her soft folds had begun to swell.  He cock twitched eagerly each time she moved.   How could he have known that arousing her would drive him so near the edge?  The gasps, the soft breathy groans, the tensing of her nipples under his steady strokes, all of it was making his blood pound with need.   Oh but he wanted her.  Wanted to thrust hard and high right there and lose himself in the warmth of her inviting cleft. 

 _Valar Elladan control yourself._ This was supposed to be about her pleasure not his own.  He wanted more than anything to look up from the sweet centre of her pleasure, his tongue damp from delving deep as he could reach, and watch as her careful, controlled façade shattered in the face of perfect bliss.  He longed to taste and feel the rippling waves of her release below his lips. 

He ran questing hands down to the swell of her cheeks.  Scooped them up and lay her back against the sand.  “Beautiful one, let me love you, let me hear and feel you lose control.”

“Elladan!”  her soft cry of need was chased by breathy eager moans.  Her half-lidded, dark avid eyes, made more so by the faint flush on her cheekbones, burned into him.She looked radiant.  Her flush this time was not embarrassment but anticipation and all the more beautiful for it. 

He kissed her deeply once again,  stroked her hair and set to his delightful task, running his tongue ran along her jawline, suckling an earlobe, nibbling at the hollow of her neck.  Reverent hands caressed each breast, as his mouth dipped to suckle hard.

“Ahhhh.”  Liniel gave a keening moan and he chuckled, running his hands once more along her ribs to hold softly at her waist. 

“Come, “he breathed into her ear.  “Come and let me bathe your skin in warmth and wet as my tongue finds what it has missed.    I want to taste all there is of you tonight.”

Their mouth crashed together and his hand traveled of its own accord, brushed a line from her navel down to splay fingers across the silken dark hair above her mound. 

He started for she had gasped and an insistent mouth now suckled hard where his own pulse beat time with the rising pounding of his heart.    His arm clasped tighter at her waist while his length brushed warm and firm and hard against her thigh.

Her hands raised to clasp at his back, savouring the feel of strength and sinew and hard muscle below her fingertips.  His chuckle and a sudden shift of hands below brought her attention sharply back.   The fine long fingers that had raised fire on her skin were now roving over hidden spaces they had yet to touch.

He let them stroke, gently and slow across a tiny nub.  Her soft cries told him he had found the spot.  Already she was panting, trying to assuage the rising need by letting her hands rove searchingly, longingly all over his back and ribs, as if hungry to feel the shape of his body. 

“Melamin, this is just the start.”  His smile was hidden against her softly yearning core., grew wider as he pushed her thighs apart and knelt between. 

His lips parted and planted the first melting kiss against the dripping folds. 

“Ai!”   

He grinned but did not release her as she bucked and cried aloud.  He kissed and licked, suckled gently at her hidden spot, feeling the tremors run through her top to toe.  She was trembling and moaning, shuddering with each stroke and he knew she was drowning in the need.  Her hands were clenched into his hair, pulling at his braids, roving in time to each panting breath. 

She was on fire and he was the one with the power to assuage her need.

Swiftly he ducked his head and thrust his tongue into her cleft.  

“Elladan!!!”  Her hips quest upward, yearning and blind need all pooled together by the soft sucking of his gentle lips, the hot spear of his tongue.   She twisted and moaned, thrashed wildly and he held on, plunging over and over, riding the waves of spasm that rang through her core.  Wave after wave rolled on and he grasped hard at her hips to keep his place.    

At last she sighed, lay still and shivers wracked her skin.  He kissed her stomach and each breast, slid up her trembling body to press the hot brand of his length against her hip. 

“Are you well?”  He brushed a damp tendril from off  her cheek.

“Oh yes…”  her voice was hoarse and ragged, soft and swollen like her folds.  It made his cock throb harder still. 

“What would you have?”  he asked, for even then, having taken her apart, he wanted to be sure.   This was the moment.  The act that would bind them for all of Arda’s days.  He would that she wanted it as much as he.

“Please. You.“ Liniel murmered, reaching up to claim a lingering kiss.

_And so._

His reached down found her folds and his lips were replaced by something more substantial.She was so wet, it took no time for fingers to to slide, caress and stroke until her cleft was throbbing once again.

Slowly, almost in a daze, he nestled his weight above her, lay athwart her hip and knelt between her knees.  He was hard and aching: her breasts were soft beneath his chest, her hands held tight to his shoulders as he moved.   The feeling made him harder still.

 _Eru._ He took a deep and steadying breath and slid his cock in as gently as her sigh. She held him fast, deep in her wet and warmth, as his lips hungrily came down to claim hers.    She was everywhere around him,  the scent of her hair, the softness of her lips, her hands and folds.  It was driving him wild. _Nienna he could not last long_.

"Oh Lin. " This time it was a sigh. They hung suspended in the feeling,  the fullness, oneness, the perfect surfeit of completion.  And then he moved, plunged in and out in a rhythm old as time,  his heart was thundering, he could not get enough breath.  He was burning, aflame, and the only release was tje sweet and heated grip that slid along the length of his cock as he pushed in.

“Harder” she breathed.  Strong small hands pulled his backside, melded the two of them closer, and he was engulfed. 

Power filled him.  Elladan's thrusts were slow at first and shallow, reveling in the feeling of being joined, but as need built and reached, Liniel tilted her hips just so and he moved deeper.   Harder and wild, each time he drove forward she could not help but gasp.  Her small needy cries melted with his hoarser gasps.  Inside the fire and fuel pressed together, outside his insistent heaviness covered all  her skin.  It was sweetness and fire and an ocean of towering need.  

All at once the storm clouds  overhead broke and as the first fat drops splattered across his back his own release fell upon him like a storm.  “Liniel!”   Bright ribbons showered down his nerves and his body clenched in utter bliss, spilled his seed into her core.  As he held her through the shuddering she shattered and broke again, the muscles of her cleft spasming about his cock and pulling tightly at his tip.  

For many minutes he did not know if they still lay upon the shore or had risen to some other plane.  The rainburst had passed and now the drops of wet were fading on his skin.   He felt giddy, drunk, outside of time or space.  Gently, he ducked his head and kissed her lips, her throat, the tip of her very nose. 

There was a peace in her eyes and a gleam of tears upon her cheeks.

"Liniel?"  

He shifted a little, took his weight off her but covered her cooling skin with his arms and legs.  Reached and brushed away a tear with his thumb.

"Melamin."  

Her smile, through the tears,  was shy and hesitant.   The flush of release still stained her neck.  After a what seemed an age a  delicate hand reached up and caressed his cheek.

 “Now we are forever bound.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

Elrohir was frantic.

Elladan was ….gone…

At first he had not believed the evidence of his eyes. Startled, but not yet afraid, he ran out onto the sand, followed his brother's footsteps until they just… disappeared.

A hundred yards ahead the clear indentations of boot and heel simply stopped. He turned around in puzzlement. Behind, a clear path of soft marks was visible. There were two sets of prints: his and his beloved toren's, yet ahead the beach was free and there was clearly no other sign. How could that be?

Elrohir shook his head, denying the evidence of eyes and walked around the trail's sudden end. He came back toward the wet, darker sand of the shore and looked back whence he came. The trail was not so close that the waves could have swept the tracks away. Nor was there enough wind to blow the looser dry sand higher on the beach. In fact, compared to the cove before it was quite still. The grasses waved only lazily in the barest breeze.

_Surely Elladan could not be simply gone?_

Reason told him this was not possible, there had to be another explanation and so he pelted farther down the beach, searched behind every rock and stack, calling Elladan's name loudly, before circling back and slipping between the grey standing stacks of rock. He called, again and again, his brother's name and his. Only the gulls answered, crying high and thin.

_Where was he?_

Elrohir's keen eyes caught the sight of a sandcrab chasing in the high grasses of the sandy dunes and with a flush of hope he raced up their slope, heart thumping, excited to have missed the obvious.

But no. There was nothing there. No sheepish, distracted ellon, apologizing for frightening his little one. No hut or bench or stile behind, no sign of habitation for his brother to be hidden in. In fact, other than the birds, there was no sign of life at all.

A sick and sickly feeling began to grow in the pit of his stomach.

Shoving down the bile that threatened to rise up he repeated his search again, this time going more methodically and slowly but all too soon he was forced to accept what set his heart to clamouring, Elladan was nowhere to be found.

He looked at the sun hanging above ocean's calm green-blue. It was now past mid-day and he needed help and time to better search. It would be dark by early eve and unlike in his northern home, there was little twilight. The flame of Anor simply slipped like a shuttered torch, below the far horizon, into the west.

He had to go get help.

The realization sent Elrohir galloping back to Dol Amroth's barracks, praising and apologizing to his mount in turn, driving him too fast over the unfamiliar terrain.

They clattered into the barrack's court just as the afternoon bells were tolling. Elrohir leapt down so fast he stumbled on the rough grey stone, before shouting to a startled stable boy and running to the palace gate.

'Where is the king?" he demanded of a pair of startled guards.

A fresh faced and nervous young man, resplendent in Dol Amroth blue, saluted smartly and gestured toward the main hall. "Inside my Lord, with the Prince."

Elrohir did not wait for more. He raced up the wide stone steps two at a time, acosting first one servant and then another for directions before he stopped, chest heaving, on the threshold of a sunny meeting room..

"Elrohir?"

The King smiled and set down his quill, tone quizzical but not yet concerned. He had obviously interrupted some business of government for the Princes of Dol Amroth and Ithilien leaned over a broad, dark table on which there were scattered parchments and many maps. Faramir's sleeves were rolled up and there were ink smudges on Aragorn's broad callused fingers.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Imrahil, asked mildly. Gondor's Steward and its King looked a little startled, but the Prince, ever the polite host, was quite unruffled.

He smiled, noting but not remarking on his guest's wild, disheveled state. .

Something of the elf's anxiety must be palpable to one who knew him well for a furrow of concern appeared in Aragorn's high brow. "Brother what is wrong?"

The words, and the dread, tumbled out in their haste. "It's 'Dan. He slipped away again. He is gone and I can't find any trace of him!"

"Gone?" The King rose at that, casting a quick, uncertain nod to a darker corner.

"What do you mean by gone, Elrohir?" asked a gruff, low but blessedly familiar voice."

"Mithrandir!" A surge of relief flushed through his breast. The wizard had arrived. He was not one to miss another happy, unlooked-for event to come from all his labours. Mithrandir, as fond of weddings as he was of fireworks, had journeyed south just for the days to come.

"I followed him. He rode out this morning and I followed where he went. Elladan has been acting strangely, did not wish for company, and so I hid. Followed on in secret."

Mithrandir's bushy grey brows narrowed thoughtfully. "Followed where?"

"To the cove. The one where he said he met his mystery elleth."

Mithrandir rose slowly, concern creasing his weathered face. "What elleth? What cove?"

Imrahil gazed at Elrohir uncertainly. "Elladan has been riding each day west, up Cobas Haven toward Edhelhond. He claims to have met an elf-woman there, though those shores have been long abandoned."

None wished to suggest there was anything ill with either twin…and yet….

"He has not eaten or drunk for days." Elrohir exclaimed, frustrated to be met with guarded looks all round. "He has hardly slept. It is as if he has a fire in his veins, has fallen under this creature's spell and is now before my eyes he has simply disappeared."

"That seems hardly possible…" Faramir began, but Elrohir threw up his hands, pacing in agitation. "I know what I saw!" They were wasting precious time.

"Disappeared?" repeated Aragorn. reaching automatically for the sword he did not wear. "Could there be Orcs, bandits about the bay?"

Imrahil shook his head. "None that I have heard. It was patrolled not ten days past."

Imrahil and Aragorn exchanged a heavy glance and the Prince gathered up his cloak. "I will go and gather my men. We must organize a proper search."

"Let me help," asked Faramir, nodding to them all before following his uncle out.

"Finally!"

"Brother!"

Elrohir was trembling, The King's expression of concern hardened just a little. "We are all trying to help but forgive us if this is a little difficult to understand."

"And all the while some hurt could have befallen him. He could be dead or dying!"

"Elrohir, calm yourself!" The wizard's voice was sharp but his eyes were full of sympathy. "Think. Can you feel your bond?"

The ellon blinked. In his panic he had not thought of that. Tentatively Elrohir reached out, sought for his twin's thoughts, for the ribbon of knowing that had bound them from the first. It was there; faint and thread- thin. Not thoughts but certainly a sense of him: whole and somehow stretched, as if Elladan had journeyed very very far away.

Farther than he had ever been before.

'It is as I thought," Mithrandir said, seeing the elf's shoulders sag in their relief. "He is not dead, or lost to you. Now, come. Let us ready to ride and on the way you must tell me all that you know."

Aragorn rounded the table, issued quick orders to the guards. He clasped his foster brother's arm, tugging him forward and glancing worriedly at his stricken face. "Brother, come."

Elrohir now seemed to be in a daze. "How could he journey too far for me to hear? Even were he in Lorien I could reach him if I would."

Mithrandir's hand gripped more tightly on his staff. "It smells of wizardry to me…"

 

  
~~~000~~~

 

Elladan awoke.

He felt… disoriented…..uncertain of what had disturbed his reverie but a quick glance about showed no threat.

Liniel lay nestled against his side, their legs entwined, and her fall of midnight hair all about them like a cloak. He smiled and ducked his head again, brushed his lips across her brow. It had been purest enchantment to fall asleep lulled by the sussuration of the waves and now to wake with all his heart desired held safely in his arms was even more blissful still.

Heavy-limbed with langour he lay back, settled his shoulders to the warmth of the sand and ignored a strange tug of longing in his chest. It felt odd-not quite as if something were amiss: not alarm but more a steady pull. As if the faintest of anxious words skittered at his thoughts, just out of reach and somehow naggingly familiar.

He let them flow over and around his sense of peace, closed his eyes and watched the worry drift, like a lazy current in a river.

Had all the Orcs in Arda come rushing on them at that moment he would have been hard pressed to react.

"You are no dream…." he whispered softly to himself.

"Who has said it?" The cascade of fine dark hair parted as Liniel looked up. He could see his eyes own in hers, blinking puzzled in the clear sunlight. They were all night, no fog of grey-twilight sky rimmed pupils wide with need.

"My brother…my twin.. He believes you are a dream."

A clear bell-like laugh floated up. "Am I a dream?"

He flipped over and cradled her close again. "Yes, My dream. All that I could wish for."

Soft hands tangled in his hair, pulled him down for lingering and hungry kiss. "This feels quite real to me, hir nin."

Elladan gasped and swallowed hard, dizzy with elation and too little air to breathe. He could see it, just at the edge of his sight, Liniel's fea-shining silver and bright as niphredil. He longed to sing of it but did not have the words. "You make me wish to be a poet," he murmured.

"To sing of my feasts or of my fate?"

They laughed and lay back down, lazed drowsily in the sun. It felt right to just lie and be together in each other's arms, unhurried and unconcerned. They drifted on the edge of reverie again, before Liniel raised herself up upon an elbow, shielding her eyes from the slanted rays of the westering sun.

The fading light had painted colours upon the water and on Gaeron's silver tack. The horse stood placidly, cropping at the sedges among the rocks.

Liniel frowned and placed a hand on his to still the slow circles he was tracing on her hip. "We have tarried much later than I thought. It grows late Elladan. We should begin to move."

 _And lose the sense of utter oneness that he felt?_ "Nay." He held her tightly for a moment and gained a playful slap for it upon his wrist.

"But you must." Liniel pulled an arm out of his grasp and reached behind, draped her shift and his discarded shirt across them both. Sand trickled down off the sun-warmed linen and into the hollow of his neck.

"Have you somewhere else to be?" he teased, deliberately squaring his shoulders flat again. "Some other lover to dally with?"

Instead of amusing, his jest only made her lips set flatter still. "No hir nin, but I expect your poor horse will be anxious for his barn and you have yet a ways to ride."

"Liniel!" What had brought on this sudden change of mood? Ignoring his protest she stood up, wound her skirt again and tied her belt and knife back in its place. Nimble fingers threaded through her hair, shaking free bits of seaweed before she bent and picked up his dry and stiffened breeches.

The elleth pursed her lips and scanned the clouds gathering overhead as if searching for a sign. The breeze had begun to rise. The dune grasses waved stiffly back forth, nodding in the wind- hiding the first night peepers and their song. Liniel shivered at the sound.

"Your grandfather's star will rise quite soon. You must get back."

Elladan struggled to his feet, shrugged his pants quickly on and reached for her hand, puzzled when she would not meet his gaze. "But I do not wish to leave, melamin!" He placed his other hand beneath her chin and reluctantly she turned. A flicker of worry shimmered the clear-grey depths.

Of what was she afraid? Could she really think that he would just leave her here now that they were bound? Did she think to make him leave to make parting all the easier?

"Liniel, you must not believe that I will not honour what we have done? I would not leave you." It was inconceivable. How could he tear himself away from her beauty? From the unfettered joy of hearing her voice or simply being near?

He smiled and sought to caress her cheek but instead of soothing his words clearly struck a sharper nerve. She gathered his stockings and his boots, all but threw them at his feet.

"Elladan you must go."

"But why?" Was she having second thoughts? Had he unknowing treated her truly ill? It was the way of his cleave to their first but what if it was not hers? What if her folk would not approve of a lordling from the north? "Liniel, I lo…."

"Do not say it!" she cried, suddenly stopping his lips with trembling fingers. "Please, I beg of you. Go!"

Bewildered, stung by actions and her words, he grabbed tightly at her wrists. "Why are you doing this?"

"Elladan let me go!"

"No, " he cried, pinning her tighter as she sought to twist away. "Not until you tell me why?"

Her eyes were white and wild, staring fearfully out to sea where the clouds were bathed in the first pink of the setting sun. She stood still, tremors running like cold fire through her limbs. "Please. Elladan, I pray thee..do not do this. There is no time."

"Do what?" He shook her hard again, yet she stood frozen, like a marble statue, the planes of her face lit now orange as the glow intensified.

A single crystal tear ran down her cheek. She moaned brokenly. "Be like them…"

"Like who? Liniel you are not making sense."

"The others…."

It seemed then that her own words had broken some sort of spell for suddenly Liniel wrenched free. She grabbed for his arm and with a strength he did not expect dragged him closer to where Gaeron stood. Hurriedly she threw up his pack. The stallion whickered nervously but stood his ground.

"Tell me," he demanded, mouth gone dry at the sight of two more tears coursing down the fair face he had kissed not so long before.

"You must not be caught here." Liniel pleaded, pointing to the rocky pinnacles round which he'd rode. "Sunset must find you beyond this shore else…"

"Else what?" He closed the space between and clasped both warm hands about her shoulders. She was cold and shivering and her eyes were haunted as they looked up.

She was, he realized, now truly alarmed and afraid.

"You too will fade. This is not your place. You will be caught here where there is naught here to sustain you-no food or drink to nourish your life's blood." The dark head drooped. "Forgive me but I should not have let you near, should not have let you stay, but I have been so alone for so very long. I have been weak and now I risk you too."

 _Too?_ Others had met that fate?

"I do not understand." Not why, not what had happened but as he looked upon her stricken face he knew. _She was afraid because she loved him too._

Liniel glanced west again, gasped to see the sky turn from orange to deeper crimson. "Saes Elladan. Please!"

She was frantic now, all but pushing him onto Gaeron's back. He swung quickly up but he leaned down to plant a last searing kiss on her trembling lips and gently brush the tears from off her cheeks.

"I will go but I promise you I will be back."

"Hai!" Gaeron sprang forward as one possessed as the elleth smacked him sharply on the rump.

In a trice they were off the beach and pounding hard through the surf, leaping dark jagged rocks and swirling tidal pools. Elladan crouched low over the stallion's heaving neck, praying for him to keep his feet. They flew fast, faster and he watched, heart in mouth, as the sky above darkened blue to black. Only the barest sliver of dusky red flickered out to sea. The wind rose in a keening moan as it poured wildly round the point,

With a last plunge and spray of surf they flashed past the grey stacked point.

Behind them the darkening twilight air rippled and the little cove stood empty once again.


	6. Chapter 6

_Why struggle_

_to open a door_

_between us_

_when the whole wall_

_is an illusion?_

_Rumi_

 

The days to come were torture for Elrond's elder son. There was a wedding to attend, a loud and boisterous, Rohirric-tinged affair that had the merrymaking spilling into Dol Amroth's cobbled streets. The bride, of course, was lovely; the groom handsome, and both had a becoming blush of love upon their cheeks.   There was a role for him to play:  sober, diplomatic and enthusiastic head of the delegation from Rivendell.  He rose when called upon and said a few words of genuine rejoicing and encouragement on behalf of his Father and Grandfather both.  Raised a crystal goblet and, in lieu of a toast, sang of the everlasting love between Orome and Vana,  the Great Rider and his lady ever-young.  Watched Lothiriel and Eomer smile,  so caught in their happiness that at times they were lost to the world around.  

It made his heart clench painfully in his chest.  He wanted Liniel to smile at _him_ that way, joyous, unrestrained, not with the glimmer of fear that his worried heart remembered.

Elladan plastered on an affectionate grin and tried to not fret too openly. The little brother who had wrapped him in a desperate hug, met breathlessly upon the trail the day before (after he had—escaped?, fled the cove? he was yet unsure), had already shouted at him once, finding him drifting unconsciously out of the feasting hall. It was as if Elrohir could not stand to have him out of sight, did not trust him not to flee. Elladan had only been out for a breath of air but now he was watched like a hawk (albeit a loving one) or an over zealous jailor.

He had given his word. He had.

It was just that the heart in his chest was bright silver grey –carved of magnetite- a lodestone pulled inexorably back to _her_.

Elladan held onto his latest plate of delicacies like an anchor in the space and with exaggerated care bit down on a honey/almond pastry.  It was rich and dusted with spun sugar, a favourite specialty of the market stalls, and though undoubtedly executed perfectly he could not take another bite.   The sweetness made his stomach twist.   He pulled a face, hastily setting the lacy confection back down.

Across the crowd his benevolent guard cum nursemaid rolled his eyes.   At another time he would have loved the treat, Elladan adored sugared sweets, but not this night.   The aberration had been noticed. 

' _Eat, toren, you are becoming skin and bones._ " His brother's thought was tinged only slightly with loving exasperation.

He had.  Had eaten and drunk, modestly, throughout the day to show that he was not bewitched. With a little grimace of distaste he set the half empty plate down on the nearest chair, straightened and threw his long glossy hair back across his shoulder. The silver circlet that bound his brow winked in the afternoon sun-its diamond sparkled in time to his twin's that similarly hovered and sparkled as its owner bent to inspect the detritus on his plate.

""Rho." This was ridiculous. He was quite in control of himself. He had stayed for the festivities because he had promised both of them, his brother and his love, that he would go back. When the time was right. That his limbs and every sinew sang and wanted that to be _now_ did not rob him of all volition.

Dreams and desire and reality were not quite in tune. Not yet.

They had spoken with Mithrandir late into the eve the night before, talking round in circles while Callacirya wheeled overhead, for though the wizard frowned and probed quite gently at his mind and pronounced no undue influence that he could gleam, nothing he said assuaged his brother's fear.

"She has bewitched you Elladan.   This is ill intent. This….this creature wants to keep you for herself."

"No.. She made me leave before I could be caught."

That last word brought a rumble of disquiet from Mithrandir's chest. He had removed his softly smouldering pipe from between his teeth and waved the narrow end quite thoughtfully.

"That is what I wish to understand. If you can be 'caught' it assumes that there is some door. Some barrier that must come down. We must find the nature of it."

"But how shall we do that?" Elrohir had arched his brow, his dislike of further exploration etched in every tense and nervous twitch,  pacing restlessly across the neat and immaculately tailored grass.  Around them a beautiful sweet scent had arisen as the night blooming jasmine opened and unfurled.  The ghostly blooms glowed like Varda's stars under Ithil's waxing light.  It had made him long to see the moonlight in the cove and sparkle of moonlight in a pair of sea-grey eyes.   

"Tomorrow," explained Mithrandir, his gaze boring into the ellon's startled heart, blazing indigo with starfire. "Tomorrow while the Edain are sleeping off the painful fruits of their festivities let us see what else can be caught within the cove."

 

~~~000~~~

 

The horses stamped a little in the faint chill of pre-dawn about Belfalas bay. The sky was darkest blue, not yet creased by a line of pink beyond the endless, grey-green waves. They rolled in to shore and crashed desultorily about the rocks, making the early morning's only sound. Even the gulls were quiet in deference to a town that was yet sleeping off its celebration.

Elladan himself had sought, but not found, reverie that night. The star of Rivendell was still bound to his brow but his dress blue robe at least had been exchanged in favour of a simpler  tunic. Excitement would not let him bother more. It raced through in his veins, made him sit Gaeron impatiently, watching Mithrandir and Estel mount and Elrohir advise a bleary-eyed stablemaster for the umpteemth time exactly when and where they would be going and when they would be back. Imrahil had wished to come but given the day's events they had demurred. His daughter was married safely, blissfully, happily to her prince and the Prince who had hosted what seemed to be half of Middle-Earth deserved to rest.

Elladan ignored the deliberate slowness on his brother's part and set out through the city's silent streets. Soon enough they left the rocks of Tirith Aear's dark base behind and rode at an easy canter north. He fought the urge to rush. Though Gaeron of course knew the way, was confident of his footing even in the dawning half-light, they led a little cavalcade that were unfamiliar with the trails and the rocky shoals of the point.

He had to remind himself to breathe.

Once the sea-stacks loomed high and silently brooding up above and Elrohir had nearly caught him up, he could not resist. Elladan whistled once and Gaeron obligingly sped up. They cantered round the point and he looked out, heart thudding in his chest, anxious to see the sun breaking within the cove, to see it glinting on raven, shell-strewn hair.

He looked.  Blinked twice, hoping that his weary eyes were deceiving him, but they were not.   The cover was silent. The salt-kissed air blew steadily in his face and the waves beat ceaselessly on the empty shore.

His stomach dropped into his feet.

"The sun has not come up." Mithrandir spoke right at his shoulder and the unexpected words made him jump.

Estel was nodding, sympathy etched in the lines of his tanned and weathered features. "You said, Elladan, that she made you leave before sunset. And that after the sun went down she vanished once before. Surely that would mean she will not appear before its rise?"

Mithrandir nodded and eyed the slight lightening far out to sea . "The door, or portal is not open yet…"

He groaned. Of course he had not thought of that. And so they waited. Tethered the horses and sat quietly on the tumbled rocks while the dark, dusky sky of pre-dawn began to lighten just to grey.

"Look!" It was Elrohir who first noticed the change as a pink sliver of morning sun rose up out of the sea.

The wind was still from the north and west, it brushed gently at their faces but out upon the sea the ripple of its passing faded suddenly. A line of quiet water grew, made a sharp break with the running waves, as if someone had taken a quill and drawn upon the surface.

_The wind._

Suddenly he realized what he had always known.  

"Toren no!"  Elrohir cried out but Elladan was already slipping off his perch, running out onto the strand, heading for the exact spot out in the water that marked where the wind died suddenly.

As if it simply ceased to be.

"The wind dies when she is there…" he called back, seeing his brother's worried face just feet behind.  Elrohir was running to catch up, his own dark hair flying in the breeze.  Out across the sea, the crepuscular sky was turning a palest golden hue, a tiny sliver of sun was peaking just above the flat grey waves.

For all that he was anxious, beyond impatient to see Liniel again, Elladan had not completely lost his senses.

He stopped just before the spot where wave-marked line broke upon the beach; waiting for Elrohir and Estel to reach his post.  Beyond the sand even the cotton grass was standing tall and unwavering; no breeze made it nod lazily to and fro.  Surely he was right...

"What do you mean it dies?"  It was Estel who asked when he drew abreast.  Elrohir was engaged in clinging with both hands to his brother's arm,  looking panicked already that he might just vanish like puff of smoke.  

"When I am with Liniel there is no breeze within the cove.  Exactly as there looks to be right there."  He pointed to the flatter water just beyond.  "The portal must be opening." 

Mithrandir paced sedately up and glanced curiously around the cove.  "You are right my young friend.  No wind runs through the grass or drifts the grains of sand.  It is no trivial binding spell."  

"Now we test the theory," said the wizard, dragging his staff carefully through the cool, soft sand. The long mark it made ran parallel to that one out on the sea.

"How?" Estel looked puzzled. He had kept a hand upon his sword as if expecting a foe to appear from the brightening air.

"If the portal to Liniel's world opens at dawn as I suspect, Elladan will walk across this line and disappear."

"No!" Elrohir took a sudden start toward him.

"Peace. Calm yourself, " said the wizard, quietly. "Not for forever, my friend. It will be only for a moment. He shall walk across the line, count his paces as he goes and then walk back again."

Estel was frowning as Mithrandir spoke. "Then we should expect to see him disappear and re-appear again?"

"Precisely." He gestured to the elf. "Walk forward slowly, Elladan, counting as you go. Once you see the other cove, cannot hear us speak nor hear the sound of the wind, turn around and walk straight back again."

Elladan laid a steady hand on his brother's shoulder for reassurance and then stepped away. He counted ten paces to the line and then stepped one more.

All at once the cove was subtly changed. The soft thudding of the waves besides the stacks was gone, became muted, rolling more gently to the shore. The sea was quieter and the wind had dropped. It hardly brushed his face, was just a suggestion of the breath.

He turned around. The others had disappeared.

It worked! His heart leaped at the thought. Swiftly, he looked down the strand and spied the remains of a lonely firepit, some shells and weed gathered beside driftwood. Liniel! She had been here. It was early and perhaps she had yet to come to fish, but she was there.

Before he could get caught in searching more he turned around, took one pace back and found himself almost chest to chest with Elrohir. His brother, who had stopped right behind, raised his hands and grabbed onto his shoulders in relief.

"Toren, you are back!" Three sets of worried eyes sagged a little in relief.

"Yes it worked, it worked, " he babbled excitedly, gesturing to the now slightly ragged line. Sure enough his footprints disappeared. There was nothing beyond the edge.

Mithrandir strode up beside, staff raised, his wrinkled hands touching lightly at the air as if feeling for some hard surface in that place. "Yes…there is a portal here…" Before any of them could react the wizard shoved a hand across the line, watched wonderingly as it simply disappeared.  He had taken on the appearance of an amputee; his armed ended at the elbow. Quickly he drew it back and the hand appeared again. "Most curious."

"You see? Just like that I can come and go…" explained Elladan, impatient with the demonstration. He had passed and reappeared already. Were they _each_ going to try it out?

The gaze Mithrandir turned upon him was stern. "I do not doubt the evidence of my eyes, young one, but we do not yet understand the why of this. Why the portal is present here and most important who set it here."

"Who would have the power to do such a thing?" asked Estel.

Gandalf pursed his brow, fingering a worn patch on his staff. "To make a portal-myself. Radagast in his early days. Not now. Saruman of course. Others, from the beginning of the world before the Lamps, though they would not interfere. Melian.  But to command the halcyon air, that takes a power even I do not possess.  Vilya is the Ring of Air.  With it Elrond could do so but he would not.  Mairon when he walked the world as Annatar could have done."

Estel shivered at those names. "Then it could be a long-ago device of the Enemy?"

"Perhaps. Only by asking of the denizen can we be sure."

Elrohir's protest was automatic. "But that would mean 'Dan going back across. And possibly getting caught."

Mithrandir sighed heavily. "It seems clear that beyond lies another time and place. And from Liniel's desperate entreaty, those within it too long are condemned to fade.  While she alone prospers, alone, away from the wider world.  It is truly a cruel fate." 

All through their exchange Elladan had been looking at the sun. It has slipped up above the waves, was now a fingernail of gold shining brightly across the water.

She would be there. He knew it. Some feeling in his chest told him so, tugged hard, made him want to cross before another second went to waste. How could he be without the one who brought him so much bliss? Her voice, her smile, her hands, her shining ebon hair. She walked in beauty, enwrapped him in desire and he knew he could live without her. He _loved_ her.

And yet, to be with her meant leaving behind his twin, the one to which he was _bound_.

Helplessly Elladan fingered with the rope bracelet on his wrist, ran it round and round. Was it all a hopeless dream? He wracked his brain for some solution he had not seen. Liniel was there, beyond the portal but Elrohir was here. His own world was here. Could he come and go each day? Stay in Dol Amorth to be near? The idea was tempting. It might perhaps work for a time but what of his brother? Would he stay too? What of his home? With a pang he thought of Rivendell and Cerin Amroth. Of Grandfather and his people. Of Estel and Arwen in Minas Tirith. He could not leave them either. If he stayed forever tied to the Bay he would be cut off from much of what he knew.

He looked up, aware of his brother's grey worried gaze. Already he felt torn. He had, it seemed, to choose. His brother or his love. Elladan groaned and Estel reached out in sympathy, held a steadying hand to his chest. It felt impossible. To be separated from Liniel would break his heart but he did not want to lose his world, be caught on the other side.

He dropped his head and worried the bracelet once again. The worn, salty rope prickled on his skin.

_The other side._

"That's it!" Elladan looked up at the surprised faces all around. "Things can cross!" He waved his wrist at his confused and startled brothers. " They can…my bracelet did."

Elrohir was shaking his head sorrowfully as if his twin had lost his wits. The bare fingernail of rising sun cast a glow across the beloved planes of his handsome face.  The one that was like to his own. That Liniel loved well and had remarked on as they sat and twinned old fishing rope into a memory.

"It is true! I made this, that day, upon the beach with Liniel. It came with me; perfectly sound and safe. Don't you see?"

"See what?" The younger elf's voice took on a note of puzzlement.

"If I can be caught on one side after dark then she can be caught here also..!"

Before he had time to think Elladan, to worry the wisdom of his act, he whirled and ran back the few steps to the portal's mark.

"Elladan!"

Mithrandir's voice crackled with command.

He paused before the final step. Turned and spoke with all the conviction he could muster.

"I know what I must do …."

"Brother no…"

He began to run…


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter of Lin's present. Hope everyone has enjoyed. I have updated Chapter 4 with a extra special part...note the rating change. :)

**_Lovers do not finally meet somewhere._ **

**_They are in each other all along_ **

**_Rumi_ **

 

 

 

_“If you will not have me then none shall have your love, even for a night.”_

 

Liniel shivered, chilled and frightened though the first bright rays of morning sun had already warmed the soft sea air.  

 

She had not thought of _his_ words, the ones that sealed her doom, in nearly half an Age.  She was, by nature and requirement, a habitually _present_ elleth; did not allow herself to think too far ahead nor too far in the past. A prison, however beautiful or gentle, was still a cage, and she had no wish to look too closely at the long years of her incarceration.  Or think too much of the evil one who had put her there.    

 

On this morning the melodious, charming, faithless voice crowded close, so much so that she wished to stop her ears.  It taunted her, twisted her stomach into knots, forced her to acknowledge openly (again) her fate.

 

Alone and undisturbed it had been easy for turn after turn of Ariel to ignore the stricture set upon her land.  She fished.  And sang.  Sought shelter when it rained.  Hunted when she could.  Welcomed the bounty of each new season until the flowers, shoots and sprigs were piled in memory like a never-ending garland.

 

It had been enough.  Had to have been enough for four and half thousand years. Ever since the last ellon to catch her eye had faded and been lost. _That_ she would not, could not, let happen ever again. It had been too very very painful.

 

In the intervening years her habit had been to hide when any unsuspecting mortal had walked through the portal shimmering on the strand.  She had become adept at hiding any evidence of her work, So much so that knowledge of a dark-haired creature on the shore had passed out of memory and into lore.  If the Men of Belfalas Bay spied shells and dark silken strands and skin upon the green-blue waves it was a selkie, a sea-creature, one with a golden voice.  The subterfuge suited her always well.     

 

Why, oh why had she slipped up now?  Liniel told herself she did not need company; she did not need love or comfort or the attention of another fea.  And yet over the past days of sweet fleeting summer she had been foolish and weak, entranced by a promise of something she knew she could not have, had briefly allowed to herself to hope.

 

And with it nearly sealed Elladan's own fate.

 

Even now she trembled at the memory. It had been far too near a thing. Too near.  So close to disaster that Liniel had stood trembling in the twilight, afraid that the portal would close across them,  half-expecting to find his horse’s tail lying upon the beach. 

 

Thank Varda she had at last convinced him to take his leave. 

 

A tendril of guilt twined vine-like and unrelenting in her chest.  She should not have accepted his vow to return again but at the time, frantic and blinded by the setting sun, she had acquiesced.  She would have said anything to get him to move away but now that it had been several days since Elladan had gone she found herself in knots.     

 

Had he listened to her warnings and finally stayed away?  Broken his vow? Listened to his brother who had reason to doubt her so? She had been economical with the truth.    She knew that she should be happy if he did not return but a small selfish part of her traitorous heart desperately wanted to see his handsome face again. 

 

She did not know what to think.  Would she cry from joy or fear to have him back? 

 

Enough!  Such thoughts were pointless.  Shaking her head, annoyed at her own fragility, Liniel scrubbed a tear from off her cheek.  Elladan had said he would be back and had not come. 

 

Reason said that he had finally seen sense and acted with head rather than heart.   

 

She should be happy that he was safe, relieved for his own sake.  But if that was so why then, did her fea feel thin?  Why did she feel so hollow deep in her chest?

 

Shoving aside the unwelcome, warring emotions, Liniel turned back to her morning routine.  Work would keep her focused.  She had broken her fast already with the small flat cakes she made from goosefoot that bloomed behind the sandy dunes.  The fresh rainwater that collected in the cup-like pitcher plants had provided a refreshing drink.  Now she needed to turn her attention to the day’s provision. 

 

Taking up her water bladder and small hand net, she tied a spare line and hook onto her staff (in case a particularly good catch came up) and left the sand behind.  Morning was the best time to gather the small minnows she used for bait.  A high night tide could leave them stranded in the pools and it was simple for her scoop them up. 

 

Liniel stepped carefully over the grey shaley slabs of the far spit.  Here the rocks were lined and tilted, curved in places  as if Aule himself had swirled the stuff of Arda with a giant spoon.   The rock eddies made perfect bowls in which to catch the sea and she was not disappointed. 

 

So engrossed was she in snaring the darting little schools of fish that Liniel did not bother to look up when a brighter flash of morning sun winked off the mica in the rocks.  Dawn had arrived in earnest.  Soon, with hopefully not too much effort, she would have enough minnows for a good day’s harvest of the silver mackerel that so skillfully wriggled through her larger net.   

 

She stepped into the next little pool and with a cry of excitement bent forward to pry a sea urchin off the kelp.  A treat.  As she knelt and reached for her knife another distracting flash of light caught at the corner of her gaze.  This one was odd?  The cove,  and she, were facing west.  By what magic did the sun rise in the south?

 

Just as she rose and turned that way, a deep voice reached her ears.

 

“Liniel!!” 

 

Oh Valar, _he_ was there.  Elladan.   Long legs sprinting across the sand, black hair flying free and a white jewel glinting at his brow. 

 

“Liniel!”

 

She stood, stunned, transfixed like an urchin stuck to the rocks.  He should not be here but yet he was and in a heartbeat he had reached her; caught up her hands in his and kissed her fingertips before gathering her into a crushing embrace.   

 

“Oh love.  You are here… and safe.”    Her name was murmured over and over as kisses like butterflies lit on her hair, her brow, her throat.

 

“You came?”   Liniel whispered weakly, as warm hands roved lovingly up her back. 

 

No.  This should not be.  He should not have come.  She shuddered and tried not to lean in to the heartfelt embrace but oh it brought the memory of another type of shiver.  The one that had coursed through her just days before.   Eru how could she resist now he was here? 

 

“There is no breeze.”  Elladan squeezed her shaking shoulders, looking up at the trees and scrub nearby with an expression of pleased delight.  “There really is no breeze!”  

 

“No breeze..?”  How could that signify?

 

‘I am right.  This _is_ somewhere else.  The lack of wind when I am with you is not just the shelter of the cove…”

 

Oh gods.  Liniel paled.   He had guessed.  What could she do now but wait for him realize her perfidy.   “No,”  she replied, but as she waited for his expression to sour like curdled cream he kissed her once again and continued on.

 

“I wondered at first where were your people, but now I understand.  This is not Belfalas of our time.  Edhelhond was abandoned thousands of years before.”

 

Stunned, she plucked weakly at his sleeve.  “I am alone Elladan.   I have been alone for Ages.” 

 

The star upon his brow flashed as Elladan shook his head. “When I said that folk can roam free of fear of the Enemy you thought I meant the King of Angmar.  You thought the only peredhil were my father and uncle.   You spoke of birds winging from Meneltarma to this shore but Meneltarma is long drowned.  You said this is not my place.”   Grey eyes shone pleadingly. “Tell me the truth.  It feels more as if it is not my time.”

 

“It isn’t.”   Liniel braced herself as an errant wave broke across the rocks.  The tide was going out but still it had the force to soak Elladan to his knees.  “Time passes differently in this place.  Tilion and Aerion shepherd the sun and moon but this land does not age or change.  It is.. caught…from a time many lives ago.”

 

Elladan’s handsome face frowned and he searched her gaze.  “Then the portal between times lets me slip here to you?” 

 

“Please…”  Liniel nodded but it was hard to force words out past the lump in her throat.  She had to be strong, to make him leave but she did not know in truth what she was asking.  With each passing minute, each soft touch of his fingers on her cheek, the need to feel and to be enfolded in his arms grew ever stronger. 

 

It could not be.

 

She twisted out of his too-tempting embrace and slipped across the rocks, seeking to put an expanse of green weed and water between them for good measure. 

 

“Saes Elladan.  Go!  I pray you.  All the others faded.  I… I… cannot let that happen to you too.  Leave. Now.  And do not come back again.  There is nothing for you here.” 

 

The handsome face fell a little bit.  She did not wish to hurt him but perhaps if he thought she did not care it would make it easier.  At least for him. 

 

Instead of backing off he stepped right into the tidal pools, slipped across the slick kelp and sea-grape fronds until he had closed the ten feet that that lay between.  One hand was outstretched.

 

 “Liniel, come.  Speak with me please.  There is a choice.”

 

“No!”   She stepped back, meaning to flee when she reached the far side of the rocks but in her haste her foot slipped.  Just as she was about to tumble onto the jagged, weathered spires, two strong arms scooped her up. 

 

“No!”   This was not meant to be.  She pounded futilely on Elladan’s broad chest and tried to ignore the warmth of him that seeped into her heart even through the half-drenched fabric of his shirt.   

 

Once past an overhang of rock he set her down upon the sand and tugged a strand of silken hair gently behind her ear.  “I do not believe that you truly want me gone.  Tell me why did you cry that day?”

 

“Which day?”

 

A slow, knowing smile graced his gentle lips.  “The day we loved…” 

 

Her heart skipped a beat.   Could she lie?  Say that it was nothing.  That she had not cared.  She opened her mouth to speak but words of denial would not come.  “I knew that I must lose you.  That I….I…loved you but I could not keep what my heart wants…”

 

“Why?”   

 

This was the part that was most difficult to say.  She trembled and he enfolded her shaking fingers to his chest, pressed his cheek to her brow and held her close.  It gave her courage she did not know she had.   

 

“I spurned one whom I should not.  Annatar.  A great lord of the Noldor or so I thought. I did not know then he was one of Melkor’s own.  In his wrath he cursed me and said that if I would not have him then I would be doomed to watch those I love fade.”  

 

The tears that had begun to fall in ones and twos, now coursed like a steady rain.  “This is a space apart, this cove; here where I denied him even a single kiss.  At sunrise and sunset the boundaries dissolve.   At first a fair few souls wandered in.  My brother.  And my father.  Others.  Searching for me.  But I did not understand, not then. They stayed and watched the air change and before long it became something that could not sustain them.  Once caught they could not leave and so I watched them die.”

 

Liniel was shaking and crying, helplessly, but the flood of words did not still, nor did Elladan falter in his hold.  He stood and held her and let a story kept secret so long come out.

 

“It was only after many centuries that I learned to hide.  I have my space, a cave.  I can eat and drink. Forage in the wilds.   The cove sustains me but neither will it let me out.  I can not wade deep nor can I climb far.  There are invisible walls around.  I am trapped.”  She shuddered.  “ But at least in long and long no other has been as well.

 

“Oh Lin.”  There was anguish in Elladan’s grey eyes.  “I love you too.   Too much to abandon you to this cruel fate.”

 

She shook her head, aghast at the implication of his words.  “No.  No. you must go.  It was wrong of me.  Forgive me.  I saw you that day and I was weak and I should never have let you stay.”    

 

His strong hands gave her a little shake.   “Liniel you are not listening.  I love you.  That means that I will not leave you to this curse.” 

 

Through her tears Liniel saw realization dawn and a blinding smile of joy. “Annatar was the name Sauron took nigh five thousand years ago when he came back to forge his rings. He is gone my love.   Defeated by Elves and Men and his hroa blown away like smoke upon the wind.  The curse cannot last.  It’s power must be waning even now.”

 

“Truly?”

 

“Truly.  Come with me.”  Elladan held out his hand and shook the band of plaited rope upon his wrist.   “This is proof that the power of the walls is fading.  It is of your space and yet crossed with me.”  Excitedly, he dropped his arms and reached down to take her small slim hand in his.  “If it can pass then so can you!   Come.  Let us pass through the portal and take you safely into my world.”   

 

Oh but she wanted him to be right!  There was no denying the evidence of her eyes but still her heart clenched in fear.  What if he was wrong?  What if she could not pass and faded in the attempt?  

 

Sick with fear, Liniel held her fingers back and found herself grabbing at words like fallen stars before they hit the ground.

 

“What if I cannot?” 

 

He pressed a kiss upon her brow.  “Then I will come back to you as soon as I can.” 

 

“And then?  You will still need to leave each day.”  Uncertainly she bit her lip.

  
“If I have to see you just between sunrise and sunset then so be it. I love you.  I will not be without you.  ” 

 

Stern resolution set the lines upon his face.  Eru, he meant just what he said.   “But you must not be parted from your brother!”

 

The light grey eyes darkened.   “That may happen anyway… one day.”

 

“No!”  She recoiled from his touch.  “I cannot let you.  I will not condemn your brother to such a fate.”

 

“But I cannot be parted for all time from you.”  She held her breath, afraid to hear what words were beating in his heart.  “If I have to leave forever _I_ will fade, Liniel.  I can no longer be without you.” 

 

He stretched out his hand.    “Lin please!  Come.  Surely it is worth a try!”  

 

She hesitated.  Inside her fea was singing at the thought of being free.  To be safe and whole, with Elladan, away from the cove was a dream beyond any she had imagined in half an Age.  Could it be true?  Could she really leave?   It seemed impossible and yet there upon his wrist was proof. 

 

“Lin!”   Their fingers had almost touched.

 

She looked up into the face she loved so much and nodded once, let her hand slip into his before fear froze her to the spot.     

 

His grip was strong.  It pulled her along, step after step until they were at the south boundary of the cove. 

 

Liniel blinked, blinded for a moment by the brightness of the rising sun and the mithril circlet on his brow….

 

The air shimmered and dissolved.  It felt as if she were clay, pulled in all directions by many hands.

 

She held her breath.

 

\-----------

 

 

When at last Liniel could breathe again Elladan was before her.  

 

No.. That was wrong.   She rubbed her free hand across her eyes.  Elladan was still beside her, holding her right hand in his and beaming with elation and relief. 

 

She blinked the sun away and looked again.   

 

The sea-stacks of her little cove were there, shimmering softly in the morning’s heat but the ripple in the air had gone. A crowd of people and horses were gathered at the cove’s far edge, beyond a curious line in the sand.  

 

It was, she realized, not her love who was running forward with a shout but one who was so very like him: the beads in this ellon’s warrior braids were mithril steel and he was a little broader in the shoulder. 

 

Liniel shrank back.  This was startling and frightening. She had been alone so long and now there were not just Eldar on the beach but Men, too.  And one all in white who thrummed with a power she could feel. 

 

“It worked!”   Elladan’s shout of joy echoed off the rocks.  

 

Elrohir pelted to a stop and gathered them both into his embrace.   “It did!  You cannot know how relieved I am to see you here.” 

 

“No more relieved than I!”

 

A pair of eyes that she felt she already knew smiled down.  “Be welcome, elleth.  Welcome home to our world.”

 

Liniel shivered in the sudden wind.  The breeze was strong and she was clad as usual in only her leather skirt.  Elladan hugged her closer still and reached for the cloak his brother offered over. 

 

_Home._   As her silken hair whipped about her face she realized Elohir’s words were true. 

There was a different world and she was really free.

 

She smiled, joyous and unrestrained, free of the glimmer of fear that Elladan had seen, 

Just…free.     

 

She tipped her face up into the sun and let the sweetness of her fea-mate’s kiss flow down into her soul.    

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Annafan for the terrific beta and to Lena1987 and Lucia for encouragement


End file.
